


Five (Plus One) Days Before And After The Final Battle

by moonix



Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: M/M, yet another fix-it story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/pseuds/moonix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael plucks Ivory out of the wreckage of Lapis before he gets blown off course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five (Plus One) Days Before And After The Final Battle

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and only just remembered I did. It's just a little exploration of an idea, but there you go. Apparently I just cannot leave things alone!

_Minus one._

Raphael is sitting at the kitchen table, far back on the bench in the corner, next to the window. It's raining. His face is softened by the whorls of steam rising from his teacup and the kitchen smells like wet leather and toasted bread.

“How's Cassiopeia?” he asks, voice like creased parchment.

“Getting restless,” Ivory says as he curls himself onto the bench next to Raphael, one foot propped up on Luvander's chair. He knows it's Luvander's because it's turned the wrong way around. “Can't blame her. I am, too.”

Raphael sighs.

They sit side by side, the sound of the rain like pins and needles in Ivory's ears. The Airman is quiet, has been for days. Raphael pours him a second cup of tea, strong and fragrant, making the folds of Ivory's soul unfurl like a flower bud as he drinks it. Ivory thinks of asking Raphael where he buys his tea leaves, but doesn't.

They meet again later that night, under the witchy glow of the emergency lights in the pens. This is it; they're all going out, every last one of them, except for the ones that are already in the air.

Ivory nods at Raphael and sets to coaxing Cassie out of her beauty sleep.

_Zero._

Cassiopeia goes to pieces in a searing hot burst of absinthe green and charred indigo flames. Her fire doesn't burn him, never has; he ducks low over her broken, razor-sharp spine and holds his breath until the worst of it is over. Only the worst of it isn't over, because once his lungs are filled with a halfway bearable ratio of air to ash again, other parts of his brain kick in, and there's all this pain. Ivory avoids pain usually, it's so messy and distracting, but it's too late now, and he chokes on the thick, grease-swabbed air and cowers over the split parts of his dragon, spitting blood and shaking, feverish despite the heat.

Someone calls his name.

He's never heard his name so loud and so beautiful. He thinks he might die with it burning low in his heart, a small green flame. What a comforting thought.

Hands slide under him and gather him up. There's a wrench of metal, and some of the pain eases, and then he's carried away and lifted up, and Raphael says “one last time, beautiful” in his tired voice that spills like marbles down his back. It takes Ivory a moment to understand that he isn't talking to him, and by then they're up in the air.

It feels so strange, riding a dragon that isn't his own.

“Stay with me,” Raphael says, one arm tight around him, his mouth cool on Ivory's temple.

Ivory would have liked to kiss him just once before they die, but he supposes this will have to do.

_One._

He wakes up in a forest.

For a moment, he thinks they've done it this time; shaken the stars down from the sky like the gods the Ke-Han named them after, but the lights are only fireflies, flitting anxiously between trees. The pain is back, but at least he can breathe.

“You're awake,” Raphael says, kneeling over him. He's got a bad cut down his cheek and burn marks along the arms of his jacket. “Here. That blasted Ke-Han wind magic hit us, we've gone pretty far off course. I found some water.”

He helps Ivory sit up and take a few shallow sips of cold water from a bent scrap of metal. It tastes like moss and iron and ice. Ivory lets himself sink against Raphael, who is only wearing underclothes beneath his jacket, and Ivory looks around bleary-eyed for his shirt until he finds the bandages around his legs and his wrist and his ribcage. It's a good thing Raphael has such broad shoulders and wears his clothes a few sizes too big.

“Ivory,” Raphael sighs, cradling him loosely, carefully. Ivory feels warm and safe.

“Natalia?” he manages to ask. His voice sounds like rust peeling from a blade. Raphael shifts underneath him and murmurs “shh” and “she's asleep, same as you should be” and settles him back on the mossy forest floor amid the drifting fireflies and a shudder of pine needles. Now Ivory notices that he's lying under the protective arch of a metal wing.

“Go to sleep, beautiful,” Raphael whispers, and this time, Ivory is almost sure he isn't talking to his dragon.

_Two._

He sleeps for a long time. When he wakes, Raphael is gone, and rain is dripping down the flimsy roof of Natalia's broken wing. Daylight runs and smears along the edges of his vision. He hurts a little less acutely, and his lungs are clean once again, but his body is stiff and Natalia has stopped radiating warmth. There's a rumble of thunder in the distance and Ivory whimpers, pressing himself against the dragon at his back.

“Don't you go running after him now,” Natalia warns, a spidery twitch in her tail. “He's just gone to get some people food.”

“Oh,” Ivory says, wiping a damp sleeve over his face. It doesn't come away sooty, which comforts him, because it means that somebody – _Raphael_ – must have cleaned him up a bit while he slept.

Now that he's awake, he can't go back to sleep, so he amuses himself by trying to catch raindrops on his tongue and rubbing feeling back into his hands and feet. Finally, he sits up, which takes him rather a long time, but he can be stubborn when he wants to.

“Easy now,” Natalia growls as he leans against her, shaking and dizzy. “Or he's gonna fuss.”

“Who's going to fuss?” Raphael asks, back from his – wherever he went, and crouches down so he can crawl under Natalia's wing and sit next to Ivory.

“You,” Ivory rasps, chuckling weakly, and lays his head on Raphael's shoulder. “You always do.”

Raphael makes a grumpy noise and lugs a burlap sack around to show Ivory what's in it. He must've found a village or settlement nearby, because there's not just food, but right now, Ivory doesn't care about any of it. He whines when Raphael makes him drink some more water and eat – something, he doesn't quite know what it is, and then Raphael checks on his bandages and wraps him up in a scratchy blanket that smells faintly like beeswax and sheep. Countryside, then. Somewhere – or nowhere – between Ke'Han and Volstov.

Ivory goes back to sleep. Regrettably, he does so right on top of Raphael, but Raphael doesn't seem to mind too much.

_Three._

“Good morning, beautiful,” Raphael says. Ivory blinks and winces, and Natalia laughs, her voice like whiskey and cream and the trickle of water along stalactites deep in a cave. There's tea smoking in a pot on a little fire nearby. Raphael hands him a cup that is – wisely – only filled halfway, because Ivory's hands are shaking badly, and he nearly spills the hot liquid on himself when he drinks.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Ivory lies. Raphael clucks his tongue and gives him a gentle shove, and Ivory nearly falls over.

“Right,” Raphael says, catching him at the last moment and cradling him close. “Drink up, come on, you.”

After tea there's breakfast, as much as Ivory can keep down, and Raphael goes to fetch more water from the stream. When he comes back, he dips a handkerchief in it and washes Ivory's face and hands for him. Ivory closes his eyes.

“She can't fly, can she?” he mumbles, and Raphael makes a sad noise. “What are we going to do?”

“We'll figure something out,” Raphael promises. “You should get some rest.”

Ivory thinks faintly about getting up to pee first, something he managed to do in the night with Raphael's help, but his limbs are too heavy, and Raphael is arranging them both so that Ivory's head is in Raphael's lap.

“Can I kiss you when I wake up,” Ivory mutters, and hears Raphael whisper “sure thing, beautiful” just before he hits sleep hard like a blast of Ke'Han wind to the face.

_Four_.

When he wakes, Natalia and Raphael are both curled around him in question mark shapes, and the rain has let up.

Raphael is holding his hand.

They are going to be fine.


End file.
